


A smirk in the dark

by Lilibet



Series: October 2020 prompts [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26793433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilibet/pseuds/Lilibet
Summary: There’s only been a handful of times in Obi-Wan’s life where he’s seen Qui-Gon brought low.This one has to be the worst.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: October 2020 prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949062
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	A smirk in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> For the whumptober 2020 day 3 prompt "held at gunpoint" (or held at saberpoint in this case).
> 
> I don't really know what this is and I'm not very happy with it, but hey ho, I hope you enjoy!

There’s only been a handful of times in Obi-Wan’s life where he’s seen Qui-Gon brought low.

This one has to be the worst.

He’s armed with only a blaster and surrounded by a swathe of destroyed droids. Yet somehow he’s not dead.

He almost wishes he was.

Dooku looks smug. The red of his lightsaber where it’s hovering over Qui-Gon’s neck casts an eery glow across the awful sneer twisting his features. His yellow eyes, almost luminous in the low light of the room, bore into him so intensely it feels like ants are crawling over his skin.

For the first time in a long time, Obi-Wan has no idea what to do.

If he so much as twitches, Dooku will kill Qui-Gon, of that he has no doubt. Whatever love the sith held for his former apprentice evaporated when Qui-Gon gutted Ventress in front of him. Her body lies cold on the floor, limbs twisted at unnatural angles after being thrown across the room in the ensuing chaos of Dooku’s rage.

Qui-Gon himself is dazed, the wound on his temple still bleeding sluggishly down the side of his face, and Obi-Wan’s certain he’d be swaying on his feet if he wasn’t being supported by Dooku.

The hand around Qui-Gon’s throat swipes a thumb mockingly over his jaw, and even though Obi-Wan shouldn’t react so strongly to something so simple, the sight of it makes his blood boil and he grits his teeth.

If he’s fast enough, he might be able to shoot Dooku before he makes a move on Qui-Gon. It’d be close, only an inch or so of Dooku’s face is visible behind Qui-Gon’s. Too close, even for an expert marksman.

And he’s not an expert marksman.

The unfamiliar blaster in his hand feels clunky and heavy, and there’s no guarantee he won’t shoot Qui-Gon as well.

Qui-Gon’s eyes blearily find his, unfocused and fuzzy, and his head twitches minutely down and back up. A nod.

A clumsy wave of reassurance flows down their bond.

A blessing.

Qui-Gon, even concussed and about two seconds from dropping where he stands, believes he can do this. Trusts him to do it. He’s always believed in Obi-Wan, even when Obi-Wan didn’t.

Obi-Wan’s gut clenches and he looks at Qui-Gon pleadingly.

He doesn’t want to do this. He can’t. What if he shoots Qui-Gon? There are many things in this universe he can live with, but accidentally killing Qui-Gon isn’t one of them. This war has taken so much from so many people, but he feels, _knows_ , that the death of Qui-Gon would be his undoing. That death would be one of the only things he knows he could not come back from.

It scares him sometimes, the intensity of his feelings for Qui-Gon. The things he would do, the lengths he would go to, to keep him safe and whole and hale. The thought of what would become of him if Qui-Gon were taken from him is terrifying.

A loss so irrevocable there would be nothing recognisable of the old Obi-Wan Kenobi when he emerged on the other side.

He’d had a taste of that terror, months that felt like years ago, when Qui-Gon had been taken prisoner. He’d felt the touch of the dark side, then. Had felt it smile at him and run a ghostly, barely-there claw across his cheek. Waiting.

He knows exactly what would become of him.

A secret he’ll take to the grave.

A grave he desperately hopes isn’t about to be made as he frantically casts his eyes about the room looking for something, anything, he can use to his advantage to spark a miraculous escape plan that won’t end up with one or both of them dead.

There’s nothing.

He clenches his hand around the blaster, the cold metal biting into the skin of his hand. He’s certain Dooku knows exactly what’s about to happen, but the sith just smirks, taunting him in the twist of his lips. Silently goading him to try.

And fail.

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. Steels himself.

It happens so quickly he barely registers it.

He raises the blaster.

A flash of red.

He fires.


End file.
